Elderly Woman Struggles to Rise and Go to the Yard with a Bowl of Bread.
The elderly woman heaved herself out of bed with difficulty. Leaning against the wall, she shuffled to the door. In the kitchen, she grabbed a bowl of breadcrumbs and stepped into the yard.
“Feels like I’m rusting away. All that clucking from the hensshould I let them into the garden? Come nightfall, Ill never catch them again. What am I thinking? Soon enough, my daughter-in-law will pack me off to a care home.”
She opened the coop door, and seven hens scurried out, followed by a proud rooster strutting behind. The old woman scattered the crumbs for them before heading to the loo.
On her way back, she glanced at her vegetable patch.
“Agatha,” came the voice of her neighbour over the fence. “Still keeping busy? Youre nearly ninety.”
“How could I not, Mabel?” Agatha hobbled closer. “Still got the cabbages and carrots to harvest. Lucky my grandson William and his wife Irene dug up the potatoes.”
“Youve got a fine grandson!”
“Its hard for him now, without his father,” Agathas eyes welled up.
“Now, now, Agatha, no more tears,” Mabel soothed. “Your boys not suffering anymore. A whole year without movinghow do you think he felt? Hes watching over you from heaven now.”
“Mabel, he was only sixty. Strong as an ox! And in just a year, he withered away.”
“Soon enough, Ill join my son.”
“Dont rush it, Agatha! Theres still time. Live a little longer!”
“But how? My legs barely hold me up,” Agatha sighed heavily. “Its late September, and the chills setting in. How will I manage here alone?”
“Youve got your daughter-in-law and grandchildren.”
“Oh, Mabel, what are you on about? Williams got three kids and his mother-in-law living with him. Emily, with her two little ones, is squeezed into a one-bed flat.”
“And Catherine, your daughter-in-law?”
“Shes counting the days till Im gone. After Daniels forty-day memorial, I heard her telling Emilyshe plans to sell my house and buy herself a flat.”
“Dont agree to that, Agatha!”
“Emilys my granddaughterlet her live decently.”
“And what about you?”
“Theyll shove me into a care home, I reckon. At least there, someonell look after me. Here, Im even scared to light the stove. And Ive no firewood left. Ill freeze to death, and no one will know.”
“Thank you, Mabel. Right, Id best be off,” she waved her hands. “Let the hens outthere they go, trampling the garden. Best collect the eggs!”
The mistress of the yard trudged back to the coop.
By morning, Agatha felt the cold had deepened. She didnt want to leave the warmth of her blankets. But she had to.
She rose, shivering, wrapped herself in a shawl, and stepped outside. Barely had she fed the hens when her grandsons car pulled up. He usually visited on weekendstoday was Wednesday. The old woman sensed change was coming.
“Morning, Gran!”
“Whats happened?” Agatha frowned.
“You cant stay here alone any longer,” he gestured at the sky. “Winters coming.”
“But my hens? And the cabbages and carrots arent even picked yet,” she fretted.
“Gran, Ill handle the hens. Ill harvest the cabbages and carrots while you get ready. Come on, hurry up!”
Agatha took her time packing. Shed lived here over sixty years, ever since George brought her home as his bride. It was where Daniel was born. Fifteen years since George passed. Now Daniel was gone too. She sat on the bench and wept.
She lingered too long. Jumping up, she peered out the window. Her grandson had already pulled up the carrots and was cutting cabbages. A fine harvesthuge heads. She sighed deeply and began gathering her things.
“What do I take? Leaving it alls a shame. But I cant take everything. Will the care home even allow it? Ill bring the photo albumto remember my life. Must gather all the papers. Theyll sell the housewhat if they cant find the deeds? Clothes, too. New owners will come and toss it all.”
“Gran, taking long?” her grandson called. “Done with the carrots and cabbages. Stored them in the shed. Ill come back at the weekend to share them out.”
He loaded her belongings into the car, helped her in, and drove off. Agatha stared out the window, bidding farewell to the village.
The town wasnt far. Soon, rows of terraced houses appeared. The car stopped.
“Oh, were at Daniels place,” Agatha thought, surprised. “Has he brought me to say goodbye to Catherine?”
“Hello, Aunt Agatha!” Catherine greeted her warmly, even planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Hello, Catherine,” Agatha replied, thinking, “Afraid I wont sign the house over, I suppose.”
“Aunt Agatha, weve cleared a room for youwhere Daniel spent his last days,” Catherines voice cracked.
“Weve done it up,” she guided her mother-in-law inside, “bought a new bed and wardrobe.”
“Catherine,” the old woman finally grasped her words. “So youre not sending me to a home?”
“Mum, mum, please, enough!”
“Why are you crying?”
“Gran, whered you get the idea wed sell your house?” her grandson laughed. “Were turning it into a holiday spot for the family. Spend summers there. And the woods are right there.”
Agathas heart swelled with joy. After all, she had such wonderful grandchildren.
“And what a daughter-in-law Ive got! How didnt I see it all these forty years?”
